It's the manager's report with Jerry Coleman, and the real fun starts when the chat is complete.

"Jerry did you turn it on?'' Black asked, looking at the oversize contraption with a roll of his eyes.

"How the heck do I know?'' Coleman said, fiddling with buttons like someone sending a text message.

"Don't give me that baloney or we will have to do it again,'' Black said, feigning anger.

"Oh no, all I see is zeros!'' said Coleman, with a mixture of salty language any good former Marine Corps colonel knows.

How many times does technology trip Coleman, who turned 88 Friday?

"Only once this year,'' Coleman said, not very convincingly.

"A couple times a week,'' Black said, and he wasn't lying, because his nose didn't grow.

"This happens every day,'' said Dave Marcus, the 1090 radio producer who is charged with somehow bringing Black's interview to life.

Coleman's amazing life will be the focus today at Petco Park, where the Padres will unveil a statue of this American hero.

But to describe Coleman in such a manner is the only way to make his permanent smile fade.

Never mind that he's the only major leaguer to fly missions in both World War II and Korea, performing his duty with the same zest he revealed while playing for the Yankees.

"I'm pretty excited about this, but I get very self-conscious because the thing that bothers me most is they are making a hero out of me,'' Coleman said. "I left five guys in the Pacific and five guys in Korea. They are the heroes. The dead guys are the heroes.''

Coleman's success as a reliable second baseman in the 1950s plays second fiddle to his piloting skills while fighting for our freedom. Coleman doesn't hesitate when saying the best month of his remarkable journey came in April 1994, when he received his pilot wings.

The second? When an officer barked the names and serial numbers of those who had completed training and were being transferred into the Pacific theater: "Gerald Francis Coleman, 036103."

With those words came a sigh of relief, and the time to be put in harm's way.

"I was worried the war was going to be over before I could get there,'' Coleman said.

He never let his love for and obligation to serve his country dissipate.

Sure, he was an All Star and the World Series MVP in 1950, but he would rather talk about leaving baseball for the second time in 1952-53 to join the Marines in Korea.

It was there that he lost his buddy, Max Harper. When they had Jerry Coleman Day in New York upon Coleman's return, Harper's widow called him to confirm her husband's death.